


Phone Stuff

by CuddlyHawk



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Blood, Gen, Jeremy the night guard, Mike the security guard, Possession, Swearing, fazband stuffs the night guard, hurt!jeremy, mike is jeremy's adopted father, protective!Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuddlyHawk/pseuds/CuddlyHawk
Summary: Mike gets a call from Jeremy in the middle of the night - just before the night guard's shift is about to end - and upon hearing the panic in Jeremy's voice and the angry animatronics in the background, Mike rushes to the pizzeria. He prays he's not too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Meme Request - #17 Jeremy, #12 With a friend](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/278430) by Ryuko DragonHalf. 



> I watched Ryuko draw the inspiration pic on stream and while she was working, I started writing this awful thing. This is from the FNAF AU where Faith (aka the fifth child) can take over Mike or Jeremy's bodies and enhance them, protecting them from the other children's spirits controlling the animatronics. The only reason Faith couldn't help Jeremy was because she's linked to Mike and was at his place while Jeremy was working that night.

Mike was in a deep sleep when the phone rang. His snoring almost muffled the tinny tune of _'Carry on My Wayward Son'_. Doll insisted that Mike’s snoring didn’t bother her. But it was at times like these where it bothered HIM.

By the time he had awoken enough to realize that it wasn’t his dream supplying the background music, it had already rolled over to voicemail. He grunted and wanted to go back to sleep. He was exhausted from his shift; three times that day, the goddamn Marionette had crawled into the vents, forcing him to get on all fours and dislodge it. THREE times! Squeezing into the vent once was enough to sap him of energy and patience. Three times, and he was ready to kill the faulty thing.

But as Mike rolled over to look at the clock, realizing that it was 5:30am, when the animatronics would be the most active, he realized Jeremy must need help if he was calling him. That thought woke him enough to roll out of bed and pull on some clothes. It was close enough to his own shift, might as well hang out with Jeremy until he was off, then start his shift when the night guard left.

But as he was pulling on his security vest, his phone began ringing again. Mike frowned as he looked at it in his hand. Jeremy never called more than once. Even if he thought he was in over his head and Foxy was right outside the door and Bon-bon was poking it's head in through the vent and Balloon Boy was in the room, laughing maniacally, Jeremy only ever called once. And if Mike didn’t answer, he would tough it out. Of course, Mike would either catch the call, or call him back right away, to gauge the situation and either talk the kid through it or run down and help the kid himself. He had been about call him back when the phone began buzzing in his hand. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

"Jeremy?" He asked as he held the phone to his ear. "What’s wr—!"

_"MIKE!"_ Jeremy’s terrified scream cut through the static, and Mike could have sworn he heard him sobbing for breath. _"Mike, help! HELP!"_ He gripped the phone so hard, his knuckles turned white, as he bolted from the room, grabbed the keys and leaped into Doll’s car, listening to the sounds of a scuffle, _"D-Dad, help!! P-Please, o-o-ohh god, they’re gonna—!"_ and trying to get a word in to the terrified guard. 

"Jere! J…Jere, can you hear me? Hey, listen kiddo, I’m on my way. Okay? You can do it, just hang in there alright? Jeremy? _Son?_ " Jeremy’s scuffle seemed further away, static taking over the sounds in the speaker. He gunned the car, leaving skid marks in the driveway as he sped to the pizzeria. He was lucky there were no police around; he still didn’t have his license, after all. The whole time, he was trying to shout to Jeremy, who was no longer responding. All he could hear was radio static and struggling in the far distance. "Oh god Jeremy, you better be alright…" Mike pleaded to himself as he snapped the phone shut.

A few stop signs were run before he skidded into the parking lot. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes since he was at home. A fifteen-minute drive that took five minutes...but felt like an eternity.

Mike had barely turned off the car before he was out and sprinting towards the front doors, keys jingling in his shaky hands. Frustration made him sloppy and it took four tries to get the key into the lock. "Dammit..."

Finally, he burst through.

The first thing he heard was a significant absence of animatronic noise. At this time of night, they would usually be all over the damn place, trying their best to sneak into the office. But now there was no one to be seen. Dread seeped into his stomach as he snuck briskly through the building. He stepped through the darkness, looking for any signs of life. He heard Mangle nearby, and almost didn’t look in their direction, when he realized that it was looking down at something very familiar on the floor. It was Jeremy’s phone. He had dropped it, and the incessant static, he realized, was Mangle’s noise. But why was the phone way out here? Mike swallowed. Maybe Jeremy was trying out his codes?

But all thoughts of sneaking about were forgotten at an ear-piercing shriek that echoed through the building and rattled through his body, turning the dread in his stomach to ice. Tunnel-visioned, Mike sprinted to the back room, where he felt like he always knew they were, but was trying to hope that it wasn’t true.

It was true.

The Fazband had Jeremy surrounded. If Mike couldn’t hear the sobs and cries and pleas to be released, he would never have guessed that his best friend and adopted son was in the middle of that mess. He sounded a lot more tired and weak than he had on the phone. His voice was not much more than a wheeze, but he was still crying out for someone to help him. To SAVE HIM.

Mike’s eyes went dark and he felt his heart begin to race as his body fluctuated between fever hot and icy cold. His fists shook at his sides as he stalked forward and grabbed the first animatronic he could touch. Bon-bon. Instantly, the metal creaked and dented under his grip. Squeezing tightly and yanking the animatronic back, Mike’s face could be described as demonic. Bon-bon’s smirk changed the instant they saw Mike’s livid expression.

"W̸h̢à̵͠t̛͠ ţ̷̕h̀͝e̛ F̨̕U̴͘C̀͢͠K ̶a҉r̸̡҉é ͜y̡̢͏ou̢ d̵o̢҉̡i̶n͠g̴̵ ̴͠t҉o͟ ͢my̷ ҉̡͝S̷̷OǸ̴̶?̶?͞"

Bon-bon couldn’t even answer as Mike reached up and gripped the mask of the blue animatronic, twisting it until the voice box screeched its malcontent. But Mike didn’t stop until he had literally ripped Bon-bon’s face off. Turning to the older Bonnie with a snarl, he waved the disembodied head at him. "Ń͞o͜͜w̕͢ ̶͞y̷̡o̵̴̡u ͘͢t͝wo̴ ̴m̷҉̕a̴t͟ç̕h̀.̨" 

Taking a step back, Bonnie raised his hands away from the figure they crowded around, and Mike got to see Jeremy for the first time. He was limp, his head hanging low over his chest. Or…what WOULD have been his chest, if he wasn’t pinned into the body of Golden Freddy.

Mike saw red.

"Y҉̸́͜o̴͝u̴͘͢͜ ́́́͢F̨̢U̶̵̢̧͜Ç͢Ķ̕͜͟Ȩ̴͡͡R̀͢S̸͝!̕͠͏ ̸̧̨͝G̵͜͟͟͠E̢̧̛͟͝T͟͝ ̷̀͘T̴͢͏̴H̴̡̡͜͏E͏̢̀͝͡ ̸̷̡̀́H̢̀̕͘͞E͢͜͝Ļ̴̕L̨̛ ̡̢́͜͜A̢̧͜W̡̢̨A̴̧͜͝Y̛͝ ̶́͡͞F̛́͘͞R̛͘͠͠͠Ơ͟͢M̢̛͏̢ ͞H̶̷͟I̵̷̕M̸҉͜͢͝!͏͟҉̷!̵̨͜͞"

Mike’s voice was almost indiscernible as he hurled the head at Toy Chica, strength he didn’t know existed allowing him to be able to push them around like it was nothing. Freddy stepped back, seeing Mike’s rage, and turned around, walking right out. Nope, he was not dealing with Mike tonight. The others still thought they could fight him off. While Chica and Fred turned to Mike, gears screeching dangerously, Mike growled lowly, leveling his fists, ready for a fight. The two stood in front of him, blocking his view as Balloon Boy carried something that looked like a Freddy head behind them and began helping Foxy work with the suit and Jeremy.

The next few seconds were a blur for the enraged father. A blur of fists, metal, screaming gears, blood, oil, and sweat. He swung his fists wildly, connecting with metal and faux fur, flying fists of fury and fuming rage.

Punch after punch, he landed, until he realized that there were only a few left standing. Servos having shut down, most of the animatronics were on the floor, heaps of metal and scraps.

"M…Mike…?"

Mike’s snarling breaths caught in his throat when he heard the weak call.

His eyes flashed back to white, his fists un-balling as he rushed to the teen’s side. Tenderly, carefully, he examined what they had done to his son. The front of the animatronic had been pried open somehow, and forced closed around Jeremy’s small torso. Not very well, he might add; the metal was bent and the work looked rushed and almost angry. The only visible part of Jeremy was his head. His arms and legs must have been pushed next to the metal skeleton, Mike figured, pinned in place by the plastic and metal outer shell. The face of the animatronic was lying less than a few feet away. He shivered. They had been just about to finish the job when he came in.

Balloon Boy cautioned a closer look, Foxy not far behind him. With a single dark look, Mike had both of them scampering away from the mess of animatronic parts and oil and blood.

Jeremy’s head raised ever so slightly, causing Mike to cup his cheek and help him focus. "Hey Jere, can you hear me?" The only response he got was a weak hum and his eyes drifting closed. "Hey! No no, ya can’t go to sleep yet, kiddo. I’m sorry, I know you must be exhausted, but you can’t take a nap yet." He patted Jeremy’s cheek and examined the hinges of the front of the suit. With a little effort, he knew he could pry it open. Adjusting the body so Jeremy could rest back against the wall, he braced his hands on the front of the Golden Freddy suit and twisted with everything in his power. He felt the scars on his head opening and dripping lightly down his temples, but he ignored it.

Somehow it didn't surprise him when the heavy metal bent under his strength and he was able to twist and pry it away from Jeremy’s chest. What he saw made his heart squeeze painfully. The endoskeleton was not forgiving, and was digging deep into the kid's spine, blood coating the inner workings of the animatronic. Mike chewed his lip as he wondered what Jeremy’s back must look like. Last time he had almost been stuffed, the metal had scraped up his back good. And he hadn’t even been pushed all the way inside.

"Dad…" Jeremy’s voice snapped him from his thoughts, and he saw Jeremy’s eyes tear up as he winced, back arching away from the endoskeleton as best he could. "…hurts."

Mike cringed in empathy. "I know kiddo, I’m working on it. You need to do me a favor though, and don’t fall asleep. You can do that for me, cant’cha?" Jeremy nodded tiredly. Mike gave a single nod and reached forward, taking hold of Jeremy’s shoulder. His arms hadn’t been stuffed into the arms of the animatronic like he had thought, but was pinned at his sides by the plastic-coated torso of the suit. He easily freed Jeremy’s arms and gently pulled him forward. Halfway there.

Jeremy clung to his vest like a lifeline, burying his face in Mike’s shirt as he sobbed quietly. Mike worked quickly, maneuvering the suit so Jeremy’s legs could slide free. Once he was free, he noticed a large gash on Jeremy's leg, but he had a feeling that it was from being stuffed in, not taken out. Leaving the suit behind them, Mike pulled Jeremy away and hugged him tightly on his lap, careful of the mess on his back. It had indeed scraped his back up so badly, his shirt was tattered and scars, new and old, mingled with fresh blood dripping down his sides. He shivered as he attached himself to Mike, whimpering and mumbling incoherently.

Holding his son, Mike hushed and rocked him, careful of his injuries, as he reassured him that he was right there.

Out of nowhere, Mike felt a presence behind him, and turned to see the Marionette staring at them, the painted tears on its cheeks making it look even sadder and angrier with the hostile frown it wore. Behind him, the other active animatronics were lined up like an army. Mike held Jeremy protectively closer, glaring at the animatronics, feeling his body heating up again.

"S͏tay͟ ͏̴a̸w̶͠a͘͝y͏͝ ̶̷̸f̸r̢̀ơm͏ ̴̛͡h͟͠í͡ḿ͟.̢" Mike snarled, eyes flashing black. The puppet seemed to laugh and replied lowly in a mocking tone,

"S̨A̸͡V̕͟͝È ҉̨H̸̡I̶̢̕M̷̧̛ S̢͢A̸͘V̴̨E̶ ̵͠HIM̴," before stalking closer. "Y҉̵͢Ơ̴͟͝U҉̧͘͡ ̴̵̸̡́C̀͏̛͜A̷̴̕͝͝N̷͜͡'̴̶̕͜͝T̨͡͏͞.̵͟"

Mike took a deep breath, gritting his teeth, and opened his mouth, shouting at the top of his lungs. "SCREE͞EEE͠E̷҉E͏̶̶̨̀E҉̸̢́E̴͢Ę͢͝C̸̵͞Ḩ̀͘͠!̸͡!͜҉" 

The force of the humanoid animatronic scream forced all the Fazband to take a step back, surprised but not ready to back down. Mike got to one knee, ready to fight all of them if he needed to. But before he could do anything, the clock chimed.

6 A.M.

Instantly, the Marionette dashed out and disappeared down the hall, the others following suit. Mike turned back to Jeremy, whose teeth were clenched so tightly, Mike could hear his molars straining as they squeezed together. His eyes were pinched shut, trying to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. Mike reached up and carefully wiped away the few that managed to escape.

"Hey Jere, you made it. It’s six," he said quietly, leaning down to try to see Jeremy’s face. Jeremy on the other hand didn’t seem to hear him, and instead fisted the fabric of Mike's shirt, pressing his face into Mike’s arm as he tried to stay as close to him as he could. Since Mike was on his knees, Jeremy was up on his knees too, but he was shaking madly and starting to hyperventilate, and Mike realized that he needed to get the kid to a hospital.

He knew he’d need to tell Doll. But first he called 911 as he readjusted Jeremy, asking them to send an ambulance as soon as possible. He didn’t want to risk moving the kid too much himself with the kinds of injuries he sustained. They promised they would be there in less than six minutes.

With the promise of help on the way, Mike eased Jeremy back into his lap, holding him as best he could while murmuring reassuring words to him. "Kid, you did great. Help is coming, just hold on." The weakening grip on his sleeve tightened and Jeremy cracked his eyes open, whimpering and trying to pull him closer as his breathing hitched raggedly. Mike stroked the soft hair out of Jeremy’s face. "I’m right here, Jere, don’t worry. I ain’t going anywhere. No one can hurt ya now."

A few deep, stuttering breaths later, Jeremy was able to utter, "Thank you…" He smiled tiredly at his father, leaning into the comforting touch. "I…I knew you’d come…"

"Heh, that’s right. Like hell I’d make you fend for yourself. And you damn near gave me a heart attack, Jere."

"S-Sorry…"

Mike chuckled to himself. The kid had almost gotten stuffed—technically he HAD been, but managed to survive—and yet he was apologizing. "Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re alive." He felt his heart clench. If he had been even a few minutes later, would he have added another name tag to his collection? He shivered, not wanting to think about it. "'m just glad you’re alive…" he repeated softly, continuing to stroke his hair as they listened to the sound of a siren wailing in the distance.


End file.
